Fire and Fever
by Yonahdoxie57
Summary: Immediately after being reunited, Geralt's poisonous ghoul bite worsens. Ciri makes a series of difficult choices trying to keep him safe and get him healed before the fever kills him. Even though Geralt is delerious he is still her protector on their journey. Fluffy and Whumpy, my favorite to write! A little funny. No romance! Always compete.


Immediately after being reunited, Geralt's poisonous bite gets worse. Ciri makes a series of difficult choices to try keep him safe and get him healed. Even though he's delerious he still her protector. Fluffy and Whumpy absolutely no romance.

She ran into his embrace that was immediately home. Nothing else in her life had felt so right. Safe was an all together new feeling she had long since forgotten. All the people in her journey were trying to steal her, keep her, covet her, be family to her and all this time she did not know what the absolutely wonderful feeling of home actually felt like till this moment.

Nothing had to be said but Geralt spoke plainly the words that had haunted him but now tied up the moment in a bow. "People linked by destiny will always find each other."

She dared to loosen her grip and look up at the man she had so desperately been searching for. There was only one question on her mind and she begged for an answer. "Who is Yennifer?"

Geralt was shocked and it showed. He came to understand so much in meer seconds. They were truly bound to one another and only time would tell how deeply destiny had tied their souls. "She's not important now."

He took her head and held it to his chest again. Never before had he felt such a connection. This child was as much his own as she was her parents, maybe in some unknown ways, perhaps more. He felt it. The need to protect, care for, console and guide were all there. His heart quickened with contentment but with his slightly raised heart rate the poison of the previous Ghoul bite reached closer to it's final destination.

Ciri felt his grip loosen and she looked up at his face again only to find him in pain and losing his balance.

"Geralt!" She yelped.

He fell to his knees but not to the ground only because Cirella held him up as best she could.

"Geralt! No! What's wrong?! You can't die! I only just found you. Please!"

"Shh-hhhh" His breathing was jagged. He reached up weakly to tuck a piece of her hair gently behind her ear. "I'm fine. She healed me..." He fell further into her strength until she had to let him down next to her. He laid on his side, passed out atop the lush forest floor.

Her face was panic stricken until she heard the voices of the kind woman who took her in and a man that was with her.

They were calling for them both but still out of sight. She had to think fast. There was no reason to not trust them, but then again that's how everyone had treated her. She decided, for Geralt's sake she needed their help, just for a little bit longer.

"Over here!" She cried. "We're over here! He's hurt!" While she waited during the precious few moments left alone together she made the same gentle gesture to him by sweeping the hair off his face and tucking it behind his ear. It was then that she noticed the pain ease ever so slightly and the smallest of grins glean his features, but only for a brief second.

The man, whom Ciri soon learned was the kind woman's husband, and his son retrieved a cart to carry Geralt out of the forest, back to their homestead and onto their kitchen table. Ciri never left his side, by keeping a grip on some part of him with her tiny fist at all times.

"Come child." The woman chided. "Let's go get breakfast started. It'll help build up his strength if he eats."

"No. That's not what he needs. He needs medicine, of a magical kind." Ciri tried to be polite but the urgency of her feelings kept her from being so.

"That black stuff you mean? He drank that all up awhile back. Say, how'd you know?" The husband asked and both adults leaned in for the answer.

"He's...my uncle." A quick lie but a good one. "My dearest Uncle. I had been searching for him when you found me in the town."

"That is perfect!" The man clapped. "My wife tells me I've got a sweet new daughter to meet but by the law of surprise you are bound to him already!"

"I'm sorry, what?" The princess breathed.

"This man here saved my life he did! From some wretched things eating corpses of some poor folks I was trying to bury. He told me to run but I'm stubborn as an ox and he saved me anyways. Then just as soon as he tells me that just one bite will kill a man he goes and gets bit himself. So I brought him to the safety of my own home. Along the way, once he was out of a daze for a spell, he took this black vile, right nasty stuff too. I thought he was getting better."

"Did he say what it was? We can make it again!" Ciri begged for more information.

"No... But he did ask to be taken to the Blue Mountains. Said a fella up there would save him. Goes by the name of Vesimir. But then again he also had his heart set on going to the battle front at Sodden Hill. I think maybe to find a woman. Perhaps a Yen-e-fer, or one of the other dozen women he called out for in his confusion."

The woman added. "He was delerious to be sure. No telling what he said was gibberish. Probably all of it."

Cirella gazed at his face while the mother brought a bowl of cool water and a cloth. She began to dip the cloth on the water but before she could reach the half dead man Ciri reached out.

"I'll do it." And she was given the chance to sooth Geralt's fever. His brow was hot under her touch. He mindlessly leaned into her hand while she paid no attention to the family flitting about getting clean bandages, boiling water and making broth. At one point she was asked to leave the room, much to her better judgement, so that he could be changed into clean clothes, a white shirt meant for sleeping and brown pants with laces that went up the sides so that his wound could be properly cared for. She too received a night garment suited for her age, white and floor length with long sleeves. Plain and simple but lovely none the less.

In less than an hour they both were well cared for. The husband and son had cleaned him off when they changed him and Ciri also had sponged off some of the world that had stuck to her skin.

It wasn't good enough. She felt uneasy. Geralt would stir but not wake. He'd mumble but not speak. He'd moan but not cry out.

He needed more help, experienced help, and she was going to get it.

She had these choices: The first being to stay and hope for the best, that option was already out. Second, go to the Blue Mountains. It was far. He wouldn't survive long enough for her to travel there and back again with the cure. She would need to take him. That alone would be arduous even if he was conscious. Third option, go towards the battle at Sodden Hill to the very people who had been searching for her, the Nilfguuardians. However, Yennifer was there. She knew she was important even if Geralt said she wasn't but there was no guarantee this woman she knew little about even survived the battle, why she was there in the first place or who's side she was on.

The decision weighed on her mind throughout the day and into the early evening. She rested her head on the tabletop along the witcher's side. Tears began to fall sideways on her face and melt into the wood. She didn't make a sound. Crying silently had become an unfortunate pastime of hers these last few days. In the stillness she suddenly felt a large hand pat her head. It should have startled her but it had the opposite effect. She lifted her face to see his.

"Shhhh. Its alright princess..." His voice was calm, low and surprisingly focused. He continued to stroke her hair sweetly.

"No. You're hurt..." Tears welled up again. "And I don't know how to help you." Her quivering chin shared how much she was keeping in.

"You'll be fine. Everything is going to be alright." His deep voice cooed with the tenderness of the cracking dim fire that was in the room with them. He started to lull back into unconsciousness when she jolted up.

"Should I take you to Yennifer or Vesimir?! Tell me! Please!" Some of her tears fell silently, soaked into his white tunic, while her question feel silently into his ears because he was already out again.

"Princess?" The wife leaned on the doorway.

Ciri wiped her face fast. "Oh, it's just his nickname for me."

"That's lovely it is." She sighed. "Why don't you come upstairs and go to sleep, dear?"

"I'd much rather stay here if that's alright?" She sniffled a little.

"If that makes you happy then alright. At least let me bring you a blanket." The wife smiled warmly and returned placing a handmade blanket with simple yet gorgeous stitching on the edges upon Cirella's boney shoulders.

The princess found a comfortable enough position sitting on the bench for the table with her head rested in her crossed arms. She gripped the white shirt he wore in her fingers just right so that if he even flinched she would know. In the morning she would make her choice and leave.

The morning wouldn't come peacefully, smoke was approaching instead of the morning fog.

A forest fire, spread from the battlefield and slowly and silently bled onto the family's homestead. Embers carried by the wind first landed on the roof. The smoke filled the top rooms stealing the breathable air out from them.

The smell of something unthinkable being burt woke Ciri. The sound of crackling fire filled her ears and she frantically ran upstairs not thinking about leaving Geralt alone.

The fire was hot above her but not yet visible. The smoke was so heavy she had to crawl on her knees. She came to the side of the mother's bed.

"Wake up! There's fire! Hey!" Ciri screamed as loud as her already burned throat let her but with a single touch Ciri felt that life had already left the poor woman who had held her so sweetly. The whole family had the air in their lungs replaced with smoke in their sleep.

The fire on the roof was roaring now, there was no time for emotions, just fast thinking. Cirella made her way quickly down stairs. She grabbed anything in sight; a bag, a pot, a knife, a few apples, a handful of dried meat, bandages, the blanket and of course Geralt of Rivia.

She gripped his opposite arm and rolled him off the table to sit on the bench with all her strength.

"Mmm?" He moaned. "What's... What is it?"

"Get up!" She strictly demanded sharply enough to make a dead soldier stand at attention. He immediately held enough of his weight on his feet for the princess to act as a crutch and they escaped the house.

Roach was peacefully awaiting while the other horse had already ran away long ago with the wildlife. Not fully knowing but somehow feeling that this horse was important Ciri leaned Geralt against the steed, mounted and reached for Geralt's hand.

"C'mon! We have to go! NOW, Geralt!" She screamed above the searing fire all around the encroaching woods. He swallowed, took her hand and leapt onto the back end of the saddle. She wrapped his arms around her and skillfully galloped away.

Fire, black smoke and fallen trees blocked the road to Sodden Hill. Let that be another sign of destiny, their only choice now was an endurance test towards the Blue Mountains.

The morning dew had fallen and Geralt leaned heavily on Ciri with his cheek on top of her head while arms lay loose in her lap. She had Roach at a slow trot after having galloped away from the fire in such a rush. She needed directions but there had been no one all this time. Of course it didn't help that she was traveling by deer trails through woods and not road.

Geralt took a refreshing breath but didn't open his eyes or move his body. "Princess?"

"Mmm?"

"Where are we?"

"Hopefully on the way to the Blue Mountains. I'm taking you to Vesimir. Do you think you can make it?"

"That's good..." Geralt stretched his arms only to find them bound together so he yanked on them and sat up straight realizing the position he was in with the princess.

"What the-" he started but Ciri cut him off.

"Sorry sorry, it's just to keep you from falling off. You keep going in and out. And if you fall off I don't think we'll be able to get you back up again, isn't that right my good boy!" She cheerfully pet the horse's neck and he billowed happily in reply.

"Let me down and it's Roach."

"Wha?"

"My horse's name, it's Roach." He answered as if he was embarrassed about that too.

"Oh. You know, I thought he was special."

"How so?" Geralt grumbled feeling ignored about his want to get off.

"He waited for us at the fire. Fire was swirling everywhere but he was as majestic as ever."

"Yeah, he's a good- wait... Fire?! Roach, woah there." Suddenly wits about him, he twisted out of the simple knot of bandages on his wrists and jumped off the horse leaving Ciri looking at him very puzzled.

"What fire? Are you..." Geralt's world was turning dark around the edges and he stumbled back a few steps.

"Geralt!" Ciri leapt off and ran to him before he fell. "Would you please sit down? I'm fine. It was... nothing. Just sit down." She looked up at him with sad eyes that he couldn't resist so he let her lead him to a soft place to rest while she unpacked Roach.

She worked to find some dead wood and the means to make a fire but before she could even start it up he spoke again from his pillow made of the mother's blanket.

"I can smell it. The fire. Its in your hair... our clothes. Are you hurt, princess? What happened?" He demanded softly.

She continued to work with her hands and the kindling crouched next to him.

"I don't know exactly. The woods around their house...the whole upstairs everything was just filled with smoke and..." Her hands froze. "I tried to wake her up but...they" Her throat closed and the words were too fresh to speak. The damage the smoke had done in her own throat scratched again.

"I understand. You don't have to say it." Geralt placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him. Her face was ready to burst. She was ready to finally let it all out. Ciri fell onto his chest, wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and just sobbed. All the while he simply stroked her hair and looked up at the trees above them patiently waiting for her to be ready to speak again. His heart ached for her with each cry.

"Its not just them... There were others. Others died. Good people. Bad people. They all died because of me."

"I know how you feel. But you can't live with that burden. Let it be."

"Just...forget them?"

He answered abruptly. "No." He picked up her face so he could see it. "You treasure their memories always, but first you mourn their passing, you learn from their sacrifice and you move on."

"I don't know if I can do that so easily." She sniffled and had to clear her throat from the incessant pricking.

"That's alright. You're young. It comes with time."

"Even if you're the one who ended their lives?" She coughed now.

"Wait. What? What happened?" Geralt sat up on his elbows looking concerned.

"No, no. Lay down. You don't have the strength..." Seeing that he would not be calmed she told the short version. "Some boys followed me from the market place and they tried to-"

"WHAT DID THEY DO??!?" His booming voice seemed to make the trees drop a few leaves and suddenly he was sitting up fully grabbing her arms.

Her silence was because she was trying to decide if she liked being protected by Geralt of Rivia so strongly for something that happened in the past. She decided that she did before she changed the tone of the conversion.

"I killed them. I killed them all, Geralt. Even the horse nearby. All dead. Terribly dead. I didn't mean to! I was just so scared!" She cried hard only stopping to cough now and again all while the rugged Witcher held her firmly again one arm pushing her into the respite of his shoulder and the other supporting himself.

"Shhh it's alright. If you hadn't I would have killed them much slower. You did them a kindness." Even though she still cried he thought he felt her cheek stiffen a little with a smile through his thin shirt. Sure, his reply was sweet but none-the-less darkly true. This feeling he had now had not stopped rushing into him since he first held Cirilla in the woods. There was a fullness that came with wanting to protect her that he couldn't describe. Pride was not the word to describe it. He broke how thoughts to recall this power that she barely described that was frightening and remarkably similar sounding to her mother's.

While her crying slowed, the coughing took to a new level of concern. "The smoke, damaged your throat. You need plenty of water. Do we have...

She pulled out the pot she grabbed.

"That'll do. There's a creek just a few dozen strides that way." He cocked his head to show her.

"How... do you know that?" She thought perhaps he knew where exactly they were.

"I hear it. I also smell apples and meat."

She chuckled and moved away from his shoulder wiping her face dry. "That's right. Which do you want?"

"An apple for Roach." He replied softly as he laid back down.

She got up happily and fed the biggest apple to her new best friend. When she turned around Geralt was already fast asleep. His calm breathing made her peacefully happy.

She chose to heat some pieces of dried meat in the pot she had filled with water from a quick flowing creek near their late morning camp. Exhausted herself, and sightly chilled under her thin nightgown, she laid alongside her new protector, in the safety of the crook at his shoulder. Both rested peacefully.

Geralt smelled the burning leaves before he heard the huge tree branch collapse above them. The forest fire had caught up to them already. The Witcher instinctually held Ciri close, as if he had all his life, and he rolled several times over as fast as he could. The roll seriously hurt is leg though, must have hit a branch or stone just right on the wound.

He was still wincing from the pain but Ciri was already on her feet tossing their few items into Roach's side saddle. The blanket, caught underneath the fallen branch, had to be forcibly removed but it was too precious and was not going to get left behind.

After a little galloping to get ahead of the blaze they carried on through the night air and eventually took a road that Geralt guaranted would get them to the Blue Mountain range where they would find Vesimiere.

"Who is Vesimiere, anyway?" Ciri asks gleefully.

"An old..." He pauses because friend isn't the right word, neither is it the wrong word. "Teacher. And... Something of a father to me."

"Is he a Witcher too?"

"Yes."

"Why don't we hear stories about him?"

"He's... Partly retired."

"What about your parents?"

"I was abandoned to become a Witcher. He took me in, guided me through the trials. Trained me. Wasn't easy." He wanted to be truthful, but she was annoyingly persistent. It was however, easy to talk to the princess.

"I see. Do you think he'll like me?"

"No." He answered quite easily and it disturbed Cirilla's positive mood.

"What? Why not?!"

"You ask too many questions."

"Why would-" She stopped realizing she was about to ask something again.

Geralt half chuckled and smiled. "Its alright princess. You may ask me anything you like and I will never lie to you."

She was taken by surprise. He said it so easily and yet it was of the most profound sentences ever directed towards her that didn't expect anything in return. "Is that a promise?" She was suddenly serious.

Geralt was curious as to why she would expect anything else from him but he replied with sincerity. "Till my dying day, Princess Cirella, I will never hide the truth from you, that I promise."

"Thank you, Geralt." She nearly whispered and kept the tears from falling.

"Mmhmm." His head lolled down atop her hooded head.

"You rest now." She ordered.

"Mmhmm..." He replied softer.

The road was smooth and free of any signs off the fire. The wind was no longer at their back so maybe they could avoid the blaze from now on. Other riders, groups of men, who were more likely mercenaries than farmers or soldiers, passed them and paid them no attention. Didn't even offer a salutation. From time to time Geralt would suddenly jolt awake and become intensely aware of a simple sound a twig snapping in the forest along side of them or an animal rustling in a tree as they passed under it. He would mumble something and fall asleep again. Ciri was determined to ride all through the night, since her last nap nearly killed them. However her young eyes were getting heavy and while Roach could go on without her driving just fine she still needed to say in the saddle.

Ciri allowed her eyes to close and in what seemed like seconds all her muscles gave a jump. She was falling. While this is a perfectly normal feeling to have as one's muscles relax to fall asleep, this time she was actually falling off of a horse. Thankfully Geralt's arms were already around her and held her fast when she tilted enough to rouse Geralt out of his sleep.

"Woah now!"

"I'm-I'm fine. Just nodded off for a second there. I'm fine now."

"You need... sleep..." He barely spoke.

"Geralt, I said-"

"I insist." He words abruptly solid. "There's a campfire nearby. Someone's cooking some game. You should be able to see the glow from the road in the dark. Can you do that?"

"Yes... I believe so." She answered meekly.

"That's...good." He nodded off so quickly it caused her concern. While it would have been easy for her to keep going now that he was asleep again she chose to stop for his sake.

Geralt was right, the mercenaries' camp wasn't far at all. They were all sitting around a proud fire with rabbit tied over it. She took Roach into the brush.

"'Ello there miss. Who might you be?" One fellow stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I'm...Fiona. My Uncle is very ill could I perhaps ask you good gentleman to help him off my horse?"

"We'd be happy to!" Another replied and a few came over to move Geralt over to a place where he could sit back against a tree some yards away from the fire and conversation.

"Sit here, little one, close to the fire."

"He needs me."

"Just for a moment to warm up your hands, love. Its alright!"

She was offered a place amoung them. They all leaned forward and rested their elbows on their knees.

"What you running from dearie? The war or the fire?"

"Both I suppose." Ciri rubbed her hands together near the fire completely unaware that she was being prepared to be consumed, just like the rabbit had been caught and warmed on the fire.

"What happened to your poor Uncle?"

"He's been sick with fever for days. There's a cure, I'm taking him to his father in the Blue Mountains."

"Oh dear, for days now you say? That's awful. Looks like his leg has seen better days too. You know there's a town very nearby you can get him some care at first light."

"Yes, he was bit by some fearsome creature, it's the cause of the illness." She stopped to yawn. "Thank you ever so much for sharing your fire with me. I should really check on him now."

"Take your time, we'll be here when your done. Come back and tell us more of your story."

"Alright!" They shared a smile and she went to Geralt's side. The thin white sleeping shirt he was wearing wasn't enough to keep the night air from chilling his skin. She brought over the blanket she kept from the house and even removed her own cloak to keep him warm. She would sit by the fire for a time anyway. He was in a cold sweat, it shimmered in the light of the fire and he shivered too much for her liking. Ciri fetched some water from their skein and brought his lips to it but he wouldn't wake. His breathing was almost non-existent. She feared she was losing him.

"Geralt!" She tried to shake him awake.

"What is it Fiona?" A voice from the fire called to her.

"My Uncle, I can't wake him."

"Oh my... That is a problem." The voice was just behind her now.

Without words two or maybe three men laid their filthy hands on her night dress. It was so thin it was as if they were touching her naked body. More of them joined. They jostled her as she tried to kick wildly and screamed. Their hands holding her thin arms and legs in one grasp completely lifted off the ground. She tried to scream again but a hand was already placed over her mouth then she could barely get enough air to breath through her nose in her panic.

The man's once friendly tone now had the consistency of snot. "Shh-shh-shh wouldn't want to wake your Uncle now would we?"

"Too late." Geralt's deep voice rang true and threatening. A sword tip was already placed at the leaders throat. The witcher applied a slight pressure to pierce the man's neck and leave a bead of blood trickling down.

"Put. Her. Down." He demanded.

She was slowly released and placed upon the ground. When Ciri looked up she saw Geralt's bright yellow eyes glimmer in the firelight. She held back a gasp. The men too were fixated by them however were and frozen in fear. Without taking his threatening eyes off of his prey he offered a polite hand to the princess. She slowly took it and was almost too suddenly curled behind her protector. He simultaneously tossed the man forward. He kept her appropriately along is anchored back leg as close to himself as possible. While his left arm held her close she felt him shiver followed by his muscles tensing. It became immediately apparent to her that he was barely holding himself up and was desperately trying to hide it. He couldn't stand without her support let alone fight a half a dozen men.

The men backed away slowly but the sword Geralt stole from out the leader's belt started to visibly shake too. He noticably tightened his grip on the unfamiliar cheep sword.

"You alright there... Witcher?" The leaders tone was accusatory.

Geralt's heart was racing, the poison spreading fast, he didn't have time for this he had to finish it fast, one strike if possible. Hesitation weighed heavily with the princess at his side, only an arms length from the potential slaughter. He grimaced. They deserved death and worse for what they had schemed to do, for grabbing, scaring, even speaking to her. It was quite obvious this was a regular pastime of theirs.

"Get back!" He ordered and shoved her forcedly, almost to the tree he was previously placed to rest.

She wanted to protest but she was a fear filled dear in the woods, shocked with horror and uncertainness.

Before she could think he lunged and pushed her again, this time behind the tree. While metal clanged with metal, the sound of grunts, screams and bodies hitting the ground filled her ears. Her back pressed into the tree bark as if it ensured her safety. When it stopped she couldn't bring herself to turn to see what carnage she had caused this time. What nightmare inducing images she would need lifetimes to erase. She took a few clarifying breathes and turned to see one man escaping away on a horse. But where was...

"Geralt!!" She missed his name with a scream before she started running to the white haired man in the white shirt. A stark contrast to the darkness and death around him. He was on his knees gripping the sword that was stabbed into the ground for stability. All the others were dead. Definitely dead.

"Geralt!" She said again now at his side. She took his shoulders and sat him up straight and she gasped at what she saw.

Scarlet red was staining the shirt from left to right across his chest. Geralt was hopelessly out of breath but looking to her fiercely.

"Princess." He huffed. "Are you alright?" He begged with great effort.

"Yes, I'm fine! But you... What did they do?" Tears were already streaming down her face.

"Ah." He looked down touching the red streak lightly. "It looks worse than it is." He breathed painfully. "Princess, listen very carefully. The next town, ask for Vesimiere at the inn." He seethed through his teeth the pain from the poison was getting worse, and he knew he only had seconds to send Cirilla to someone safe before he passed out. "He'll take care of you for me."

"No! I'm not leaving you!"

"Princess... Please... Go..." And with that Geralt of Rivia fell.

She yelled at him. Screamed at him. Shook him until she was out of breath.

Then more calmly now swept his hair off his face and she bawled into his shirt gripped tight in her fists until his skin turned cold.

Roach started nudging her.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" She yelled at him, anger in every syllable.

Geralt's now dark red blood covered the front of her once spotless nightgown. Her wrists and legs held fresh red bruises from fingers and hands of now dead men on her porcelain skin. Her hair still smelling of burnt home.

An early morning fog was rolling into the area and she could still hear the cracking embers from the campfire. The air was cold. The ground was cold. Geralt's body was cold. She nestled up against his side and without her permission her exhausted and tormented body feel asleep.

"Damnit, Geralt." Someone grumbled under his breath as he stooped down to the lifeless Witcher and child. It started Ciri out of her sleep which started the onlooker as he had assumed she was dead.

"Stay back!" She yelled and the hooded visitor felt the subtle power of the small wind her voice had just controlled.

"Its alright there. Old Vesimiere ain't gonna hurt you. You see, he's my friend."

She blinked and sat up straight but still clung tightly to Geralt with both hands.

"Did you say... Vesimiere?"

"Aye." He replied and he removed his hood revealing the white hair and yellow eyes of an old Witcher.

She spoke while weeping. "We were coming to you! He got bit by a monster and his medicine only helped a little bit then he got worse and couldn't even stand but he protected me from them and now he's dead because of ME!"

"I see. And who might you be?" He squatted close to Geralt's feet.

"Don't touch him!!!" Air rushed slightly more unnaturally around him. She was just so weak.

"I'm sorry! I don't mean to frighten you. You poor thing, scared half to death ain't ya? Just start with your name."

She swallowed tenitively.

He felt her distrust. "You recognized my name. He told you about me, right? I can keep you safe from harm but you have to tell me your name for starters." The man was gentle, kind and seemingly trustworthy. But so had everyone else. This time was different though, Geralt told her about him.

"Answer me this first." She demanded.

"Anything."

"Who is Yennifer?"

"Geralt doesn't keep me apprised to all is comings and goings so I'm sorry to disappoint but I don't know who that poor woman is."

"Alright then. Who are Geralt's parents?"

"Ah. That I also don't rightly know but I can tell you they left him. Didn't care a wit about him and left him for me to train."

"If Geralt had anyone to think of in place of a parent whom would they be?" She changed tactics.

"Well, he would rightly never admit to it and would likely rattle me for saying so but the only person like that in Geralt's life is... Well, is me."

She replied calmly. "That's what he told me."

"Really?" He chuckled, a little proud of himself. "How about yourself? Feel like you can tell me your name now?"

"One more question."

He sighed but went along.

"How did you find us?"

"Oh yes, a question I can answer! See there was this bloody lad who ran into the inn raving about some crazed Witcher just oft town killing everyone who stood. I knew it wasn't me cause I knew where I was. So I thought it might have been Geralt of Rivia. After a little... Interrogation I found out the general location. Also, witchers can smell all this spilt blood pretty easily."

"I knew he had a keen nose." She glanced back at her protector.

"Did you know we've also got very keen ears?"

"I saw it at times, yes." She sniffed.

"Well then, let me tell you this, little miss who is still unnamed, I can hear Geralt's heart still beating."

\--

The next morning Geralt stirred when the sunlight streamed across his face. He found that his head was comfortably laid upon a pillow and that realization caused him to open his eyes and sit up in one fast motion.

"Princess?!" He yelled out of concern. The last thing he remembered was protecting her from being ravaged upon by those lowlifes. He reached to feel the bandage across his chest and he recalled the injury and bits of the battle.

How did it end?

Did he get them all?

Was Cirilla alive?

He looked around the room frantically until his eyes found her. She was curled up in an upholstered chair that was along side his bed. Someone had draped a blanket over her after she fell asleep. Her hair looked clean and she had color in her cheeks.

Geralt breathed easy at the sight and allowed a smile. He now recognized the brick of the walls and familiar smells and let all his concerns float away as he rested back on the pillow again.

The Witcher turned his face towards the girl he would need to provide for and protect from now on. He whispered to himself "People linked by destiny will always find each other." as he mediated peacefully until she would wake.


End file.
